The Resolution || Carmy Berzatto x Sunny
the resolution - jack's mannequin
warnings: mentions of suicide, abusive family, anxiety (hinted at), heavy feelings, carmy being an ass at first, carmy with some well directed anger, and fluff.
misc: This is a very personal piece for me. When watching the bear, I absolutely fell in love with the character of Carmy and found similarities in the strangest and most depressing of ways. I put a lot of effort into this and I hope it is enjoyed.
As always, the music influences the story. So I encourage listening. ♡
Also as this is very different for me, let me know what you think? I would greatly appreciate it.
summary: You're a server at the new restaurant, The Bear. One night, your home life catches up to you and clashes with Carmy, who is still dealing with the emotional fallout of how he left things with Claire.
banner courtesy of @firefly-graphics
There was a loud crash and you could feel your heart stuttering.
Carmy didn’t turn around.
You watched as his shoulders tightened beneath that chef’s coat as he continued making what he was already on. Sydney’s knuckles tightened around the podium where she was keeping track of orders. You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until you released it to answer Carmy’s pissed off voice, “The FUCK was that?”
Everything tensed in your body and instead of explaining, you calmly stated, “I need two more seven fishes, chef, on the fly, along with a T bone.”
You felt a panic well up inside of you as you saw Carmy slam his hand down on the counter, open palmed and angry. Quickly, you were going to walk away. After last night you couldn’t handle another person yelling at you. Yet, you couldn’t walk away.
Fear raced through you.
Instead of fleeing, you stayed rooted to the spot and watched as he spun around and got in your face, those blue eyes boring into you as he raised his hand. Thanks to his anger in the moment, he missed the flinch that escaped you at the gesture, However, Syd didn’t. He didn’t bother making eye contact with you he pointed at the wall and door that was shared with the dining room, “Slow the fuck down on your way out and maybe, just FUCKING maybe, you’d see someone approaching through the god damn glass wall, yeah?”
“It was an a- an...an accident. Chef.”
God, you hated how weak you sounded in this moment. It was all you ever did. Last night, with your dad, you just stood there and took the abuse. As he berated you with his drunken words you silently wept. The only sounds you made were ones where you would apologize and ask for forgiveness.
And Carmy? Yeah, he had a temper but it was never like this. In fact, it stunned you into submission. It reminded you of everything else in your life and god, you were so thankful this uniform hid the bruising on your arm. It would just make you look even weaker.
Carmy flexed his fist and just, “We can’t afford accidents like that. Open your fucking eyes, yeah?”
Everything felt as though it was echoing in your head.
You could nearly smell the cheap whiskey on your dad’s breath as he continued berating you, “Open your fucking eyes, Princess. Only thing a girl like you is good for is spreading your legs and getting paid for it. Fucking useless. Just like your god damned mother.” Your mother, the one that was buried in the ground. The one who blew her brains out in front of Buckingham Fountain because she couldn’t take her life anymore. The woman who was a saint, until your dad found out she had been seeing someone else. Planning to leave with you. That had turned her into a whore. His fingers wrapped around your arm and tightened until you were crying out from the pain-
Carmy took it too far. He realized that as you mentally left the conversation.
Physically you were there, but he saw the light leave your eyes and the tears begin to replace them. Fuck. He was an idiot. He let this shit that happened with Claire consume him and piss him off to the point where anything broke him. He winced and thought to himself how lame of a fucking excuse that was. However, when he tried to pull you back to the present, his fingers wrapped around your arm in the same place you’d been hurt so recently. Suddenly, you pulled out of whatever hell you were caught in and a scream escaped you as your free hand flew across his face, the sound of the slap echoing through the now silent kitchen as you sobbed, “Don’t fucking touch me!”
You came alive in that moment and everything inside of you felt like it was about to snap if you held in your hurt for any longer than you needed to. Suddenly, you slapped him again and the words spilled out of you as you landed weak fist after weak fist in his chest before pushing him back, “You’re a fucking coward and a bully, and I don’t want anything to do with you. I hate you! You don’t get to touch me!”
Except those words weren’t meant for Carmy and neither were the tears freely flowing down your face. A look of shock mixed with embarrassment washed over your features. Carmy took a step towards you and you backed away. Those blue eyes of his were searing. You saw the way his glance fell to your arm where he had just grabbed before they came back to your eyes.
His eyes held sympathy. Understanding. And a look you hated. Pity.
Slowly, you untied your apron and took the server book out holding cash and dropped it on the ground. Carmy could see the way your legs tensed and he knew, he knew you were about to run. He held his hands up and looked at you softer, “Listen, sunny”- god you hated that nickname -”it’ll be alright, yeah? Just…just go sit down in the office. We can talk about this after work?”
That was when you bolted. You ran straight out the backdoor into the Chicago winter, the chill stinging your lungs and the snow immediately soaking into your shoes. Fuck. Your stuff was inside and you couldn’t bear to go back in there just to get it. So, instead, you took off running and Carmen was left standing in the kitchen, looking at the spot you had just been standing in. Part of him wanted to go after you. Actually, an overwhelming force inside of him wanted to go after you. However, he’d find you after dinner was finished. He turned around and looked at his kitchen and snapped, “We need two more seven fishes and a T bone on the fly, now!”
“Yes, chef!” The entirety of the kitchen answered unanimously, afraid to piss him off anymore.
You didn’t have your phone, or your wallet, or your god damned boots or jacket to deal with all of this fucking snow! You threw your hands up and swung at the nearest thing. Your hand collided with brick and you had a sharp inhale of pain followed by a loud scream, “FUCK!”
Hours passed and Carmy walked outside and lit his cigarette, Sugar already getting your address on file for him. Sydney slipped through the door as he lit it. She cleared her throat from nerves and asked calmly, “Have you tried calling her yet, Carm?”
“Yeah, huh, turns out”- Carmy took a drag and a bit of a bitter laugh escaped him - “sunny is the only damn server that keeps her phone in her fucking locker, in her bag.”
Sydney shook her head, “Fuck. Of course she is.”
“She’s uh…the way she looked at me, or didn’t. Um. I don’t know. S-something else outside of here is, uh, is going on Syd.” Carmy ran his hand over his face and looked at Sydney, who was clearly thinking of something. Carmy felt a sigh escape him before asking, “Why are you looking like that, Syd?”
“Nothing, just, you didn’t see it, Carm. When you raised your hand she flinched. She obviously thought, even if only for a second, that you were gonna”-
“Yeah, I kind of gathered that from the rest of the interaction, Syd.”
Sydney sighed.
Carmy’s eyes looked up and he focused on her, “What is it, Sydney?”
She stood up and looked around, before blurting out, “Just, you can’t let this shit that happened with Claire keep fucking with you. Especially at work. It’s not fucking fair to anyone. Especially your employees.” Before Carmy could even respond, Sydney was back inside.
Sugar stuck her head out and offered a slip of paper with your address on it only moments later. Carmy muttered a thanks and tucked it into his jacket pocket before standing up and finishing his cigarette, “Thanks Sug, I’ll uh, let you know how it pans out, yeah?”
Meanwhile, you had no idea what to do. Or where to go. Eventually, you found yourself standing in front of the Buckingham Fountain. It shouldn’t shock you. You always ended up here when you were aimless. You stood exactly where they found her. The ground was so pristine in its fresh snow. The white of it was a stark contrast to the blood that must have flowed, endless. A sob racked your body.
Except you weren’t sad.
You were angry, day in and day out, because she was a coward and left you here. Alone. So alone. A hard shiver chased your sob and you huddled into yourself for warmth. Except warmth didn’t come.
Carmy knocked on the door of a run down house. He went to knock again when the door opened and Carmy was greeted by a man in his fifties, wearing stained sweatpants and an old cubs shirt. A beer was in his hand. The man looked at Carmy and huffed, “Whatever ya sellin’ man, don’t want it.”
Carmy froze for a second. Was this the one that hurt you? His fist already flexed at the thought. The man went to shut the door and Carmy’s hand held the door open. Carm held up his right hand while nodding. It was as if to silently say give me a second. Those blue eyes peered up at your father and after a moment Carmy asked, “Yeah, I’m looking for someone. Works for me at The Bear?” He dropped your name.
“You talking ‘bout my daughter?”
Carmy looked at this man and tried to find your face in his, and it wasn’t there. You must look like your mom. An exhale escaped Carmy, “Yeah, yeah. She bolted mid shift and I’m trying to figure out if she’s oka”-
“Yeah, she’s a bit of an unreliable bitch. Gets it from her fucking ma’. No fucking drive. Needs a strong hand just to push her in the right direction. And even then, a fucking idiot.”
Carmy’s eyes glazed over with anger as he listened to your dad. It contrasted with everything he knew about you. You were kind and always had a smile. You made friends with everyone. Literally. You’d been one of the last hires for the restaurant, and everyone already adored you. You walked into a room and everyone lit up. Hell, even when he interviewed you, he had to bite back a smile. And it was the day after soft open, when Claire had broken up with the night before and he was a fucking mess.
You didn’t need a strong hand. You didn’t need drive. You were the fucking sun and everyone else was simply pulled along by your gravity. His fist flexed again when he thought of your reaction to his hand on your arm. Your dad’s words played back through his brain. A strong hand. Something in Carmy snapped, “A strong hand, huh? Tell me, uh…that strong hand you talked about, you lay a fucking strong hand on her asshole?”
“Oh fuck you. She’s my damn daughter! What? What…she say I lay a hand on her? Fine then. Yeah. I have a drink, I get relaxed, and she has to go and piss me off with her fucking bullshit so yeah, I fucking put her in her place. Fucking bitch really is just like her mother. She’s lucky I didn’t break her god damned arm last night to prove a fucking point.” Carmy’s knuckles were white as he held the door open. Your dad kept fucking going, “But anyway man you’re letting in the fucking cold and as you can see the useless little bitch isn’t ev”-
You dad never got to say anything else. Carmy’s fist finally flew and landed on his jaw, Carmy’s body weight behind it and knocking your dad onto the ground. The first punch shut him up.
The second? Carmy felt his nose crunch beneath his knuckles. Blood flowed freely.
The third? Well, Carmy was already pissed. His anger at everything? He reached the tipping point with what this piece of shit said about you. That first punch, though?
It also broke the dam that was holding everything in. It felt so good for his anger to unleash. As he looked down at your father’s face, bloody and already swelling, he thought of the look in your eyes as his fingers had wrapped around your arm and Carmy let out a yell as his fist crashed into your father’s face one final time.
Pushing himself up, Carmy stood and flexed his hands again, the sting already settling into the busted knuckles. He ran a hand through his hair, his curls wild from his exertion. Those large blue eyes closed as Carmy sighed, “Fucking shit. Fuck.”
Your dad let out a groan of pain and Carmy’s eyes shot open, and he looked down at the damage he caused, whispering, “You’re lucky I didn’t break your god damned arm to prove a fucking point, jackass.”
He left and walked down the overgrown path back out to the street and got in the rundown car he drove to head back to the restaurant. Maybe you’d come back. He wasn’t sure. He let out deep breaths. An ache was settling in his chest as the same hurt look on your face kept appearing every time he so much as blinked. His hand immediately began to rub into his chest. Carmy needed you to show up at the restaurant. If you left like that, and he never spoke to you again, he wasn’t sure he could ever ease this sense of guilt settling.
By the time he pulled up at the restaurant, the lights were all off and the place was closed. A fresh sheet of powdered snow was starting to fall. God, Carmy hoped you were somewhere warm. The guilt increased as he thought about your locker, your bag, boots, and winter coat tucked away inside. He walked down the alley. Instinctively, Carmy pulled a cigarette from his pack with his lips. Putting the pack back in his jacket pocket, he came to a stop. That cigarette fell from his mouth and hit the ground as he spotted a huddled up figure by the back door. He was next to you in a minute and your eyes looked up at him, a shaky laugh coming from you, “It’s, uh….it’s fuckin’ c-cold out here, ch-chef.”
“Fuck”- Carmy’s jacket immediately came off and enveloped you as you sat on the ground, the snow seeping into your pants as it melted. The warmth was welcomed.
He fumbled with his keys to hurry and open the door. As soon as he got it opened, he scooped you up in his arms and hurriedly stepped inside. He walked to the office and dropped you down on the chair in front of Natalie’s desk. You looked so small burrowed into his jacket. Carmy was trying so hard to ignore the blue tinge on your lips. He turned to the thermostat for the office and cranked up the heat, shutting the door with the two of you in there.
Next, he pulled up the second chair and sat in front of you. He reached beneath the jacket to find your hands. They were freezing. As he began to rub his warm, rough hands over yours you closed your eyes and fought back tears. Embarrassment always made you cry. The two of you stayed like this for a while, until Carmy’s brow was dripping with sweat and the color finally returned to your lips. As he withdrew his hands, you grabbed hold of them. His blue eyes met your own large, doe eyes. A few more moments of silence stretched between you. His thumb stroked the back of your palm where it landed, imploring you to say something as he continued looking at you with that gaze. So, you said the first words that came to your mouth, “I’m s-sorry.”
A huff of air escaped him as he looked at you with the softest hint of a smile, “For what, sunny?”
“The things I said to you, they weren’t”- a sniffle escaped you. Fuck. The embarrassment. Your eyes glossed over with tears as he looked at you and the second you blinked, they spilled over. Your first instinct though wasn’t to pull your hands away to wipe your tears. Instead, you buried your face in the warmth of his coat. A sob racked your body and you Carmy didn’t interrupt. Even if he wanted to, he wasn’t sure what to say. And then finally, muffled by his jacket, you spoke up, “They weren’t intended for you.”
“Yeah”- he shook off the visual of your dad’s bloodied face -“I kind of figured, sunny. Is there, uh, heh, a reason you aren’t looking up at me though? It’d be easier to understand you without my jacket in the way.”
You just shook your head no into the jacket. Carmy sighed and pulled his hands away. He looked around and used his shirt to wipe his sweat from his face before commenting, “I’m gonna go into the kitchen. If you want to head out there when you’re more comfortable, warmed up…that’d work, yeah?”
After a moment, you nodded into the jacket.
Carmy walked out and headed to the cooler immediately. The only thing he knew to do, truly, when someone was upset? He pulled out a chicken and fresh vegetables. As he carried them to the counter, he realized how bad his knuckles were. Carmy ran them under the handwashing sink. A wince crossed his face at the initial contact. He quickly cleaned his hands, dried them, and pulled on gloves just to be safe and began prepping food.
Eventually, you got too warm in the office and stood up, leaving his jacket on the chair and shrugging out of your button up, happy to have less to trap the suddenly overwhelming heat you felt in this office. You were left in your work pants and a thin three quarter sleeve black shirt. Taking a deep breath, you wiped your eyes and headed out. As you did, you saw Carmy poured over the stove and fryer. You cleared your throat, “What’re you up to over there, Chef?”
You didn’t know what to call him. He was still your boss. All things considered though, you felt like Chef might be too formal right now. He must have too. He called out over his shoulder, barely glancing at you, “Carmy.”
“Sorry?”
“You can call me Carmy, yeah sunny?” He pulled something out of the fryer before turning back to the stove. You spotted a stool that he had pulled up to the other side of the plating table. You took a seat and watched him work. He wasn’t in his chef coat. Instead, he was wearing a white t-shirt that was typical of him and his chef pants. You thought of something your mother used to say. When someone loves what they do, you can see it in how they move. It becomes an art. Watching him cook, relaxed like this, it felt like watching an art.
Looking down at your hands, you wondered to yourself if you’d ever find something like that. There had been times when you thought you had found the thing you’d been meant for but you were always told how much of a waste of time it was, or how you were stupid for thinking you could make something out of ‘shit’.
You blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears from welling over. What pulled you from crying was the sound of a plate being placed before you. It was beautiful, and smelled delicious. Chicken with fried brussel sprouts and some sort of sauce drizzled over the meat. Carmy looked on as you took a tentative bite, you unsure of why he was being so kind to you. As you closed your mouth around the food you let out a whimper. The hot food chased a shiver from your spine you didn’t know was trapped there and you muttered with a full mouth, “Fuck me.”
Carmy let out a breath and followed by a soft laugh, “Yeah, so it’s good?”
“Oh don’t do that. You know it is.” A smile graced your face, eyes crinkled in the corners as you cut another bite. There it was. Carmy missed that smile for the brief time it was gone. His smile faded as he felt his breath catch in his throat looking at you.
He watched you take another bite and cleared his throat, “What’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten?”
After you finished your bite you paused, “Are you sure? I don’t want to insult a Michelin star retaining chef.”
Carmy worked through keeping the smile from his lips. You’d heard him and Sydney going back and forth yet again over it just to retort with it. He kept quiet though. Instead, he gave you a little nod as if to say proceed. You put your knife and fork down and with a shy smile, you answered, “The wolf burger from Bad Wolf Tavern.”
“Well damn I gotta say”- he held back a laugh but his smile was contagious -“I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Mhm”, you took another bite of what he prepared for you. Holy fuck it was so good. But you were going to stand by your guns, and mouth full, “This is wonderful chef, but”-
“Carmy.” His eyes stared at you as he corrected you.
You swallowed your bite, “Carmy, but there’s nothing more comforting than beef, cheese and bread on a bun with salty fried potatoes and I will stand by that. And food should be that. Comfort.”
He rapped his knuckles on the counter as he spoke up again, “Couldn’t agree more, sunny. It’s why I made you that. It’s my mom’s old chicken recipe. She used to make it on especially cold days when we were kids. Warm us up. Figured you could use a little bit of that. Minus the haggis. Figured you might rather brussels.”
A heated blush settled on your cheeks as you tried to maintain your line of sight with him.
However, you looked down after a few moments, muttering your thank you. He’d made you something his mother would make him. You thought of your own mother buried beneath the frozen ground. Your eyes were watering as you took another bite. Carmy, not knowing the truth, couldn’t stop thinking about your mother. If you were receiving this treatment, was she okay? He asked, uncertain, “Your mom, is she…is she okay?”
“As great as you can be buried underground. She put a bullet in her head in front of Buckingham Fountain about twelve years ago, so. Yeah.” Carmy closed his eyes in disbelief as you took another bite to try and finish a suddenly uncomfortable meal.
Fucking hell. He ran his hand over his face and then through his wild curls. Feeling like nothing he could say would help, he left you to eat in silence as he cleaned up the evidence he left behind in the kitchen. By the time he was done you were carrying your plate to the dish pit. Carmy silently took everything from your hands and washed them quickly before heading to the office to bump the thermostat back down so Sug wouldn’t have a fit. When he came out, you were bundled up in the appropriate clothes and you smiled at him. He felt his heart stutter at the sight, and he quickly looked away.
His fingers ran through his mess of hair again. You didn’t know him well enough to know that it was a nervous habit. A blush spread on your face at the sight, though. Carmy looked back up at you and saw the blush, putting it on the fact that you were warm and bundled. The warmth was flushing your skin.
Carmy stuttered to get out the words, “Wh-where, um…w-where are you uh, where are you gonna be going tonight?”
“I gotta go home, Carmy. I’ll be fine. Promise.” The promise sounded weak on your lips. In all honesty, you weren’t sure. But your dad was your only family left. You couldn’t just leave him. Could you?
Meanwhile, Carmy thought of how he left your dad. The idea of you going back over there…it couldn’t go well. His heart started pounding more and more. His hand reached up to rub over his heart until the noise faded. He looked at you. The way you looked at him across the room with concern, like you weren’t the one who needed to be taken care of in this scenario. His breathing leveled out as his thoughts circled around the same solution, over and over, until he finally mentioned, “You could, um, you could stay with”- his eyes met yours, grounding him -“you could stay with me.”
Your emotions immediately began conflicting as his words registered, your teeth finding your thumb nail as you looked at him, “Carmy, I couldn’t.”
“No, you could. I- I promise. It wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Carmy, I’d be intruding.”
Those blue eyes leveled with your gaze, and he said in an absolute, “Not to me.”
You pulled your bag over your shoulder and shook your head, “I can’t, Carmy. I gotta go home. My dad, he’s the only family I have left and…I know, he doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t. He- he couldn’t. I gotta get going. Thank you, for the meal, and for uh, warming me back up.” His eyes tracked you as you walked to the door, “So, do I still have a job to come to, tomorrow?”
Carmy’s head was spinning, thinking of ways to keep you from leaving, from going back home. He couldn’t think of a single damn one though. Except that he didn’t want to let you go. But that was too much to say. His eyes fluttered shut as he tried to chase away images of Claire. Everything was conflicting. He flexed his hand, the sting of his broken skin waking him back up to the present, “Yes, sunny, y-you still have a job tomorrow. But, be safe, yeah?”
“Of course, Carmy.” You opened the door and breathed in the cold air, hesitant to take a step until finally you looked over your shoulder at him, “See you at 3:30, chef.”
Carmy couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning and waking up soaked with sweat. All of his usual mental energy was devoted to you. Part of him wondered if he should go there to check on you. Instead, he texted. It was a brief comfort when you texted back.
I am good. Get some sleep.
He’d managed to get a few hours of sleep before he showed up at The Bear the next morning. Sydney had told him again that they needed to go over a few things. Ever since he’d promised her that he’d be there for her as partners in this, he couldn’t afford to let her down. The first thing she’d asked though was the one thing he’d been wondering, “Hey! Sunny alright?”
“Yeah, yeah. She said she’d be here at, um, at 3:30.”
Sydney smiled before nodding, “Yeah? Good. Well, come on. Been figuring out ways that I think we can improve efficiency in the kitchen. I think you might like some of my ideas.”
Carmy was prepping food to try and give his mind focus after he and Syd were done. He needed 3:30 to get here, needed to see you. As he broke down the chicken, his mind circled back around to last night. A small smile appeared on his face as he remembered you saying what your favorite meal was. His thoughts were circling again.
He looked up at the clock. 3:24. The rest of the servers for dinner service flowed in, talking and laughing, headed to the lockers to get ready. But not you.
His hands grew shaky, so he placed the knife down. Carmy washed his hands, scrubbing them clean, before drying them and looking back up at the clock. 3:27.
He paced back and forth, his eyes constantly glancing up at the clock. His fingers ran through his hair, hand rubbing over his chest. Reaching for his back pocket, Carmy felt his pack of cigarettes and headed outside to smoke to take his mind off the time. One last glance before he walked out the door and he wished he hadn’t. 3:33.
He squatted by the back door and lit a cigarette before pulling out his phone and texting you again. You still coming in for 3:30 Sunny? Cause I hate to say it. You’re late.
He took a drag of his cigarette as he waited to see a reply. Carmy burned through the entire thing. 3:48. He put out his butt in the snow and stood up. After a few seconds of worry coursed through him, Carmy opened up the door and called out for Sydney. She came from around the corner and he asked, “Do you think you can handle the first leg of service, chef?”
Sydney looked to make sure the rest of the kitchen staff was there before turning to him, “Yeah, absolutely. Think you can be back by around 8? That’s when it gets busy.”
“I’ll be back before 8:00.”
And that’s how he ended up here, once again. Steeling himself, Carmy banged on the front door and called out your name. There wasn’t an answer. Again he called out. And again, no answer. He was about to try calling you again when he heard your voice come from the other side of the door, “Carmy, please leave. I don’t want you here when he comes back. It’ll just make it ugly.”
He placed his palms on the door, leaning his weight against it, not knowing you were doing the same thing on the other side, though your head was hanging low in defeat and shame. Your fingers found their way to your mouth, nails already chewed until your fingers were bleeding. You thought of the way he looked at you last night. How he wanted you to go to his place, sleep there for the night. God, you’d been so stupid.
Carmy huffed and shook his head, “Yeah, I uh, I can’t do that, sunny. Not till I see you. You know? Something feels wrong. Not right. Please? Open up?”
You weighed your options, not that there were many, and took a deep breath before opening the door. You smiled despite your appearance in a feeble attempt to placate Carmy. The smile looked incredibly out of place though and when Camry’s blue eyes landed on you his breath caught before his hands took a delicate hold on your face, “Holy shit. Are- are you okay? That’s a stupid question.”
“Carmy I- I’m fine.” But you weren’t. And the way he was holding your face, so gentle and so kind, it had you about to break. You blinked furiously in an attempt to hold the tears at bay. You looked anywhere but at him. The look on his face was a mix of worry and anger, but not anger at you. You weren’t okay. You weren’t fine. None of this was right.
Meanwhile, Carmy busied himself with running his fingertips softly along the bruise forming on your jaw, willing it to disappear even though he knew it didn’t work like that. Not to mention the split lip you had that was angry, purple, and swollen. Or the way the bridge of your nose fell way to two black eyes. He finally managed to clear his throat of any emotion before he softly spoke, “Go get a change of clothes. I’m getting you out of here. Now, sunny. Yeah?”
Eventually you nodded and Carmy’s caught breath released as he watched you disappear inside. He lit another cigarette as he kept looking over his shoulder for the asshole known as your dad to pull in and make a scene. But you were quick and soon you were back at the door, bundled into that coat with a bag over your shoulder. Instinctively, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he led you to the car and you felt yourself relax beneath his touch.
He opened the door for you and you clumsily climbed in, the car smelling of cigarette and him.
You felt yourself breathe out, body shuddering slightly as Carmy climbed in the driver’s side and started the vehicle. Your eyes fell on the house you lived in all your life as he pulled away from the curb. In that moment, all you could think to say was a weak “thank you”.
Carmy kept his eyes on the road. He wanted to get you to his place. Let you take a shower, get you settled in, order you some food and head back to work. That was when he thought of something. He pulled out his phone and dialed Sugar’s cell. She answered with a smile he could hear, “Hey, bear.”
“Hey, sug. Listen, I’ll be over there in just a bit but”- he spared a glance at you -“if someone comes around looking for sunny, just, um, t-tell him that she doesn’t work there anymore and that you haven’t seen her since last night when she walked out, yeah? And if he hangs around past that, call the cops, yeah? Everything’s fine, just, covering bases ya know?”
Even though he said that last part to Sugar, you knew those words were meant for you. You burrowed more into your coat and pulled your legs up to your chest. You hated that this was all because of you. It made you feel like such a bother. As Carmy hung up the phone, you spoke up, “Just bring me to a motel, Carmy. I can just…disappear.”
“No.” His eyes were still steady on the road. When you didn’t say anything, he realized he should elaborate, “It’s my fault, that you’re all marked up. Th-that he hurt you. I’ma take real good care of you, and then when you feel better I will take you wherever you wanna go.”
You worked your thumbnail with your teeth, and when you couldn’t get anything, you began picking at your cuticles. You huffed, before nodding softly to yourself, “I’m not used to, you know, people caring. It, um”- you laughed slightly -“feels good.” Your voice cracked and from his view, Carmy saw you wiping at your face. To try and give you a bit of privacy, he leaned over and turned up the radio, music playing and he readjusted to keep you in the corner of his eye, but not in easy view.
He pulled up and parked outside of an older apartment building. Looking over, he huffed when he realized you fell asleep. Your features were soft and he took a moment to examine the damage. He ran his fingers through his hair and flexed his hands into fists as he noticed the purple feathering around your neck and the same purple ringing around your right eye. And fuck, you looked so peaceful, he was scared to wake you up. Considering his options, he opted to get out of the car and walk around.
As he reached across you to unbuckle your seatbelt, he caught the smell of you. Floral and warm, spices he couldn’t figure out. His eyes fluttered shut as he lost himself momentarily in it before scooping you up and holding you to his chest.
You stirred for just a moment before settling against him and Carmy felt a piece of his heart stutter at the sight. When he got inside, he walked towards his bedroom and put you down on his bed before pulling the covers up and over you. Your eyes fluttered open and before you could protest, “Nah, go back to sleep. You need it, and you’ll be safe here.”
Even as you decided to settle under the blankets and adjust, you smiled weakly and nodded into the pillow as your eyes closed again. Carmy reached out for you and brushed your hair back before he could stop himself. You barely registered him saying, “Gonna go back to work. It’s a Friday, so it’ll be a late night. But there’s some food in the fridge.”
On his way out of the bedroom, Carmy stopped to look back at you. A shy smile crept on his face as you pulled blankets to your chest and snuggled them. He ran a hand through his hair before walking out and making sure to lock the door as he left the apartment. He looked at his phone. Sydney would be happy. He was gonna be back for 6:00.
By the time you woke up, it was right after 10. You pushed back the covers and looked around, realizing after a moment your bag was at the foot of the bed. Carmy must have brought it in before he left. Opening the bag, you pulled out your phone and checked it. You had 14 missed calls, 9 voicemails, and 32 text messages you didn’t want to open. Instead your attention turned to your stomach letting out a loud sound of protest. You hadn’t eaten since last night when Carmy had cooked for you.
“There’s some food in the fridge.”
His words came back to you, as did the way he brushed your hair from your face, a deep blush creeping onto your face.
Shaking it off, you threw your phone down on the bed and headed towards the small kitchen to open the fridge and see what food there was. You spotted some ground meat, some vegetables, chicken, and a few other things. Including lamb. All needing to be cooked. It didn’t bother you though.
Your eyes looked at the clock. 10:28. He’d be leaving in maybe an hour or so. You grabbed the lamb and began to work, raiding his spice cabinet as you went.
Meanwhile, at The Bear, Carmy looked at the clock. 10:28. They were closing in two minutes. Dining room was still packed. He would be here for a while. He was itching to be home though. He’d called twice. You hadn’t answered. Maybe you were still asleep?
His fingers gripped the stainless steel prep table as he called out, “Cousin?”
Richie appeared very fast, “Yeah, Carm?”
“I need you to go to the Bad Wolf Tavern and pick up a Wolf burger, yeah.” He thought about how you described their fries, “And an extra order of fries, okay?”
Richie nodded slowly before speaking up, “Is this for sunny? Is she at your place right now?”
Carmy swore under his breath. He’d managed to dodge questions about you all night. And then the rush came and it got dropped. Running his hand over mouth, he exhaled before looking at Richie, “Yeah, cousin. Some bad shit at her place with her dad. Got her out. Wanting to get her some food. Is that alright with you?”
Richie stared at him, scrutinizing. They were still a bit rocky after what happened with Claire and their fallout after. Carmy stared back with a tired expression before Richie nodded, “Yeah, yeah that’s fine. Helping her out was uh, it was a good call. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Hey”- Carmy called out as Richie turned to leave. Richie looked back at home and Carmy just - “keep this between us, yeah cousin? It’s not your life to talk about.”
“I wouldn’t do that to sunny, cousin. Now, I will be right back. Unless there’s something else?” Richie looked at Carmy with frustration. Carmy hated this feeling between the two of them. He rubbed at his chest.
Richie turned to leave and Carmy snapped his head up, “I’m sorry, Richie.” Richie stopped and listened as Carmy struggled with the words, “I was…I was upset. And- and an ass. I said things I…I didn’t mean. And god”- Carmy’s laughter sounded strained as he thought of what to say -“I actually hate that you barely say three words to me in a night unless I drag it out of you.”
“Yeah”- Richie looked incredibly serious as he leveled his gaze with Carmy -“you are absolutely an ass, cousin.”
Richie let out a laugh as Carmy bit back a smile.
Carmy chucked the rag on the table at Richie, “You were waiting for me to say that shit weren’t you, cousin?”
“Absofuckinglutely asshole.” The two of them shared a laugh before Richie slipped out the back and went to get your food for Carmy to bring home.
By the time he got back, and the kitchen was clean and the building was empty save for Syd and Richie, Carmy glanced at the time. 11:42. It wasn’t so late. He picked up your to-go order and left, driving home and heading up the stairs. He got to his door and saw the glow of light from underneath. Carmy slipped his key in the lock when he heard a clatter of dishes against dishes. He turned the key and opened the door and stepping into his small space, he caught sight of you.
Your hair was pulled back, the ponytail falling to your lower back. Carmy’s breath caught as he saw the signs of bruising on your exposed neck, another bruise on your arm where he grabbed yesterday. That was when he realized you were wearing a loose and faded black t-shirt. He couldn’t see the front to know that it was a led zeppelin shirt. Suddenly, as his eyes traveled, he couldn’t will himself to simply swallow his spit. You were wearing a pair of his pants. Grey flannel pants. You must have gotten cold and didn’t want to put the heater too high. Or at least, that’s what Carmy told himself. A soft smile appeared on his face though as he spotted the way his pants bunched up around your feet because of the height difference.
That was when he realized how good it smelled. What were you making? He cleared his throat and wanted to immediately apologize when you nearly jumped out of your skin finally hearing him over the music. However, a laugh erupted and you turned down the music, “Sorry, I saw the radio and figured I’d listen while I worked on the food.”
Carmy couldn’t help but smile at you. It was soft, but the way he looked at you made your smile stay on your face, “I made you some food. Figured you’d do the usual of eating nothing before you leave and everything you had really had to be cooked. And I don’t mind. It’s uh...lamb barbacoa, something my mom used to make for special things. Made some tortillas. Did some peppers and uh”-
-”wait, um, you cooked lamb? And uh, made tortillas?” Carmy looked at you with confusion. Where the hell did you learn that? Your mom? Even though she'd been gone for so long. He felt that ache in his chest dissipate as the meaning of the gesture washed over him. He had made something of his mothers for you, and you were returning the gesture. Fuck.
His eyes lowered to those gray flannel pants. The way your hips softly flared out kept catching his attention.
You were about to answer him when suddenly you realized he was looking at your clothes you were wearing. Shit. You shuffled, “Sorry, I uh, your apartment insulation is shit. And I got cold. The clothes I packed weren’t really enough.”
“No, it’s uh, it’s fine, sunny.” That was when he remembered he had food for you in hand as well. A huff and, “I didn’t know you’d be doing all of this. I got you a wolf burger with extra f”-
“Well fucking hell the barbacoa is all you.” You moved so fast towards him, it took him off guard when you slammed into him with a hug and your scent engulfed him. He felt a moment of quiet as you rubbed your hand on his back before pulling away and taking the bag from him. Even on your way to his small couch you had already managed to get fries out and shoved a handful into your mouth. You let out a groan of appreciation as you opened up your togo box immediately after sitting and saw the burger.
Meanwhile, in his kitchen, Carmy eyed the barbacoa. It looked as good as it smelled. He took a small bite and muttered to himself, “Jesus fuck that’s fire.”
You were having more or less the same reaction after your first bite.
Carmy sat next to you, your legs pressed together. On his plate were two tortillas loaded with barbacoa and peppers. He picked it up and took a bite. A groan escaped him. You smiled, “Is it good?”
You took another bite waiting for your answer and as Carmy swallowed his bite, he was quick to admit, “I’m starting to think I hired you for the wrong job, sunny. Sure you don’t want to work in the back?”
The two of you passed the time like that, speaking to each other in between bites until you were done. It was easy to talk to him. You were a bit surprised. He was always so intense in the kitchen. And Carmy? Carmy wasn’t the least bit surprised how easy you were to talk to. Of course you were. You were the same bright spot you normally were soon enough. It was like the shit with your dad didn’t happen. But he knew it did. Just like you did. And eventually, you stood to throw away your trash but Carmy stood and took it from you, “I got it, sunny. Relax.”
You nodded, before headed to his bedroom to finally face the thing you’d been dreading. You picked up your phone from his bed and unlocked it, the text messages flooding through. You didn’t bother going through the earlier ones. The last one let you know exactly where you stood with your dad. You scanned over the words continuously. You ungrateful fucking bitch. Think you can just leave? If you ever show up back at this house you’ll know just how much I can make your life a living hell. Won’t fucking see the light of day. Maybe join your fucking mother where you belong.
What you didn’t hear or see was Carmy coming to stand in front of you. That meant you couldn’t register the look of concern on his face as he studied you. Your shoulders tense, your breathing shallow, eyes wide and fixated, your teeth working on your thumbnail that was currently bleeding as you held the phone with your other hand.
Carmy wrapped his hand around your wrist and at his touch you relaxed, and he guided your thumb from your mouth. With his other hand he took your phone and left, walking into the kitchen with your trailing behind him. He looked over the text message that you were fixated on, committing the number to memory before dropping your phone into the half full sink.
He looked over his shoulder at you, “Looks like you need a new one. T’me it looks like you could even look into a new number, yeah?”
You looked down at the ground to try and hide your sudden smile. God he wished you wouldn’t hide it from him. His blue eyes roamed over you and when you looked up at him, that smile still on your face, a sudden surge of happiness from making you smile pulled at the corners of his lips.
In the midst of your comfortable silence with Carmy, a yawn escaped you and you sheepishly covered your face, peeking out at him from behind a crack in your fingers. Carmy laughed and, “Alright, let’s get you back into the bed huh? Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
He followed behind you for some inexplicable reason. Maybe a part of him liked the way you looked burrowed into his bed? Maybe he wanted to see you safely asleep? He wasn’t sure. But when you crawled into his bed and pulled the covers up over yourself, a pang shot through him at the memory of Claire doing the same. Still so recent. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. Then, with a small smile, he rubbed at his chest for a brief moment before reaching over you to grab his spare pillow.
As he did you smelled that distinct smell he had, the one that comforted you earlier. Without thinking, you whispered so faint he barely heard it, “Will you stay here? With…with me?”
Carmy could feel something inside of him breaking at how small you seemed, how scared. He found himself nodding slowly, “Yeah, yeah sunny. I’ma just, uh, take a shower and make sure it’s all locked up. Is that alright?”
You let out a yawn before nodding into the pillow and resettling. Carmy moved fast and your eyes were growing heavier by the time he walked back in, his curls damp and a smile formed on your face as you deliriously thought of how that would dry in his sleep. You felt the bed dip as he climbed over you. His weight against you, if only briefly, made you flush slightly. He lay there staring at the ceiling, occasionally glancing at you, until your voice drifted to him, “Good night, Carm…and thank you.”
“Night, sunny, see ya in the morning, yeah?”
Carmy continued staring at the ceiling until he heard the sound of your gentle, deep breathing. A few moments later everything in him froze as you rolled over and burrowed into his side, your arm falling across him. A breath shuddered from him and when he inhaled, it was all you, the warmth of the room amplifying that scent that already seemed so familiar and comfortable to him. His arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer. His hand played with your hair splayed out. His breathing slowed to match yours until finally, he also drifted into sleep.
And for the first time in a long time, not even occurring with Claire, his dreams weren’t haunted with visions of his past, nor anxiety about his future. And everything? Everything was tinged with the scent of delicate florals and warm spices.
Everything, as he slept, was slowly taken over by you.
